It seemed to her that no item was original. But the saleswoman, who knew her well, told her about a new product, a simple lamp, definitely ethnic but bulky.
“Would you deliver it to me?
– I’m afraid I wouldn’t, Madam” the saleswoman answered. “At least not today. It weighs nothing you know, and once fold up… You live nearby, don’t you?”
Before she could answer, a young man, the only other customer in the shop, volunteered to carry the lamp up to her house. This unusual gesture of courtesy intrigued her, and she took off her glasses to take a look at him.
“And why would you do that, Sir?
Because people no longer do it and I’m a kind of a nostalgic person in my own way.”
She liked the explanation. She paid and let him accompany her up to her building entrance. On the way, he ventured:
“You are Mrs. Launay, aren’t you?
– Whatever.
– I was not saying this because of your husband but because of your daughter. We used to be very close.
– My daughter? Which one?
– Benedicte.”
Faustine Launay stopped close to the side entrance of a church and scrutinized the young man with more attention.